


Strangers' Faces

by bewaretheboojum



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, It is sad :(, M/M, Mentions of past cannon deaths, horror movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 10:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20637533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewaretheboojum/pseuds/bewaretheboojum
Summary: Dick and Tim have a horror movie marathon but, afterwards, Tim can't sleep...





	Strangers' Faces

**Author's Note:**

> Stole a prompt from Salazarastark over on the Dick/Tim Discord. Why did I make it so sad though? :(

Dick came awake abruptly, realizing suddenly that the TV had gone silent and he was alone on the couch. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but he and Tim had started their Horror Movie Marathon of Horrors around midnight and it was still very dark outside. He was guessing it somewhere around pre-dawn. 

A soft breeze wafted in through an open window in his living room, the scent of late summer dew hung in the air as Dick tried to figure out if Tim had snuck home for the night or not. The dim city lights flowed in through the open curtains, casting shadows in Dick’s living room, but none of those shadows looked even remotely Tim-shaped.

A soft sound came from the direction of one of the windows in Dick’s living room. Sitting up on the sofa, he looked in the direction of the sound. The window lead out to the fire-escape and Dick caught sight of Tim through the gently rippling opened curtains, standing on the black metal platform, his back to Dick.

Tim was leaning heavily on the railing, his arms dangling out over the four stories of air below. He was shirtless, clad only in a pair of loose light grey sweatpants that he had borrowed from Dick when he came over that night. His skin looked even paler than usual in the darkness of the Gotham City night. His hair was a tangled mess that duck tailed out at the back of his neck and stuck up in places. 

Dick smiled before levering himself up off of the couch and heading toward the fire-escape. Tim turned to glance at him, not looking at all surprised, as Dick climbed out through the window to join him. Tim just moved a little to one side to give Dick some space. Not that Dick ever wanted space. 

Despite Tim’s attempts to keep his distance, Dick crowded him anyway, standing next to him close enough that their bare shoulders brushed. Tim’s skin felt cool, he had obviously been out there long enough to catch the chill of the night. Tim didn’t say a word to Dick, he just turned back to stare out into the Gotham nightscape, his eyes a little unfocused. 

The city was that muted sort of not-quiet that defined large, densely populated areas in the predawn hours. The hushed hum of the occasional vehicle, the dull buzz of street lights and the early morning chatter of city birds all melted into a low white noise. 

Now that Dick was closer to Tim, he could tell he hadn’t slept at all that night. Maybe he hadn’t slept for the past two nights, in fact. Between the mussed hair and his slumped shoulders, Tim looked exhausted. Dark circles ringed his eyes and there was tension hovering at the corners of his mouth. 

It had been almost three months since Dick had seen Tim last. Tim always seemed to be pointedly busy all of the time these days. There was always something he needed to do. He worked hard at his program at Ivy, he worked cases for the Bats and the Titans and the League. He traveled around to do his photography and never really seemed to have time to be in one place for more than twenty minutes at a time.

Tim had always tried to keep busy in the past, but lately, it was like Tim went into overdrive. Like he was moving to keep well ahead of everything that was chasing after him.

Dick had been missing him. Every time he saw Tim he looked less and less like the kid whose hair he would deliberately muss and more and more like a man who didn’t have time for Dick. 

Tim had balked when Dick had suggested a movie night, just like old times. It had taken Dick weeks to finally coax him into one. Tim had apparently finally run out of excuses and… 

Here he was.

Standing on Dick’s fire-escape, looking like he was thinking about jumping off.

“Sorry I crashed on you,” Dick ventured, following Tim’s gaze out into the dull late night buzz of Gotham. 

“You needed the sleep,” Tim said, matter of factly.

“Looks like you could use a little too,” Dick pointed out, softly.

Tim hummed a soft sort of non-commital sound but otherwise didn’t respond.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Dick tried again.

Tim shook his head in a sharp, almost frustrated gesture.

“No, I just--” Tim started and then broke off lifting one hand to rub over his mouth and chin in a nervous gesture. He shook his head again, not finishing the sentence and still not looking at Dick.

“You just… Got spooked? Movie was too scary for you, Timbo?” Dick teased. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from all the mean ghosties.”

“Ha.” Tim said, in a humorless way. “It just never ceases to surprise me how wrong they can get those things?”

“What things?”

“Just, the depictions of ghosts. It’s so… Unrealistic.”

“The ghosts… in the movie… are unrealistic?” Dick repeated back to Tim in a skeptical tone of voice.

“Has a ghost ever thrown a clock at you?”

“Uhhhh, Timmy you know that ghosts don’t exist, right?” Dick said in his best teasing know-it-all big brother voice.

This time Tim did turn to face Dick, his expression was incredulous. 

“Are you kidding me, right now?” Tim asked.

“Are you kidding me, right now?”

Tim coughed out a laugh and shook his head while he rubbed his hands together as if to warm them.

“Leaving aside the fact that you used to actively live with Boston Brand--”

“That’s--”

“That’s different? What about Greta? Was she different? With everything we’ve seen in our lives, you’re still saying--” Tim broke off with a huffed out breath, hunching his shoulders even more, almost protectively, and he leaned more heavily on the railing.

“Ok yeah, point conceded, but aside from those two--”

“You’re telling me Greta and Boston Brand are the only ghosts you’ve ever seen?” Tim asked.

“You’re telling me you’ve seen more?”

Tim breathed out a sigh, and gripped the railing tightly to brace himself as he leaned back on his heels. His arms were out straight as they took all his weight and the muscles in them corded tight. Turning his head up towards the sky, Tim closed his eyes. Tension tugged the corners of his mouth downwards and worry lines creased his forehead.

“Tim?” Dick pressed, trying hard to keep his voice low and even, but it was hard as he felt concern wash over him.

“I thought maybe--” Tim broke off and bit his lip.

Dick wasn’t sure just what to say to that and a long silence drew out between them before Tim spoke again.

“You never… You don’t realize they’re there… at first. It’s not until you know that they’re there, until you start looking for them, that you see them more often…”

"Them?"

"The--" Tim started and broke off, before starting again. Speaking hesitantly, his voice low and a bit unsure. "The ghosts. The-- The ghosts."

"You're saying you see them all the time?" Dick asked, feeling a little baffled.

"No! No. Just... Just when I try. When I focus... on it. On them. I just--"

Tim shook his head again, rocking back down so his feet were flat on the fire escape platform again. His arms relaxed and settled back in shoulder to shoulder with Dick. 

"Tim, I don't... I don't think I understand..."

Tim huffed out a sharp, painful laugh and tilted his head to the side in a bitter acknowledgment of what Dick had said.

"Yeah, I... I thought you might not," Tim said in a tone of voice that was so broken, so sad, that Dick couldn't help but move in closer. He leaned in to where Tim was, bumping his shoulder against Tim's again in silent camaraderie.

"So... help me. Tell me how it happens."

Tim was watching Dick out of the corner of his eye, looking guarded and unsure before leaning forward and resting his head on his hands, still gripping the railing. Dick reached up a hand and rubbed it comfortingly down Tim's hunched back. He could feel the tension, the tightness in the muscles all down Tim's spine. Tim rocked back up again and turned to look intensely at Dick before blinking hard and looking back out into the city.

"I was meditating, the first time,” Tim said haltingly. “I was in the Cave and I was meditating and suddenly... I could feel him."

"Him?"

"Jason."

"Jason?"

"Back when... Back when he was..." Tim broke off and shook his head, closing his eyes tight. "I could feel him in the Cave. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my heart was suddenly pounding and when I opened my eyes I could just see him... Standing there. Standing off to one side, watching me. Just... Just staring back at me."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He tried to, but I couldn't hear him. I saw his lips moving but there was no sound," Tim’s voice was almost a whisper as he spoke.

"What did you do?"

"I ran. I ran to the tunnel that went back to my house. I practically sprinted all the way home. I slept with the lights on for the next two months."

"How many times did you see him?"

"I saw him... Oh, I don't know. Often, when I was meditating. Sometimes when I was just... When I hit my head or had a concussion, he was there and then after..."

Tim broke off then, Dick could see him gripping his fingers together, his knuckles white and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"After what?"

"After Shiva. After I learned to meditate more, meditate better, get deeper into my own head, then..."

"You saw him more?"

Tim nodded and Dick could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"It was easier. To see him. I could hear him then, too," Tim bit out, his voice whipcord tight.

"What did he say to you?"

Tim shook his head.

"Ghost things. They never say anything that makes sense. At least not when I remember it back. I can only hear them when I get deep into a meditative state. So it makes sense when I hear them but when I come back out of it--" Tim broke off with a tense shrug.

"It's hard to figure out what they were saying when you come out of it?"

"Yeah, it's like... Seeing a picture of tiger and then after you blink you realize it's actually a tea cup or something."

"I-- ok."

Tim was examining Dick out of the corner of his eye again, face tense and eyes wary.

"You think I'm crazy."

"No! No, I don't think you're crazy. I think... I think you're right. After all we've seen and all we've done, I guess it isn't hard to believe. It's just..."

"Why didn't I say anything to you?"

"I mean, yeah. A little. I would have thought you would have told someone by now. It’s been years since--"

"I-- I did." Tim said and then paused, one corner of his mouth tilting sharply down for a moment. “I did tell… someone.”

Dick wasn't sure what to say to that. He just wanted for Tim to go on, silently willing him to speak. Tim’s shoulders were trembling minutely and his teeth dug into his bottom lip as he closed his eyes tight. 

"Kon knew,” Tim said finally. “And Bart. They... I told them."

"But not Bruce?"

Tim let out a bitter laugh at that.

"Tell Bruce I'd been seeing Jason's ghost? I'm not sure which of us would have come out of that more traumatized."

"You could have told me--"

Tim cut Dick off before he could continue.

"You would have told him."

"I wouldn't--"

"You would have. It would have been because you were worried about me. Because you wanted to protect me. Because you needed to be sure I was OK. But you would have told him."

Dick got silent at that, not wanting to admit Tim was right but also knowing that saying he was wrong would have been a lie.

"What did Kon say? When you told him."

"He said... He said it was cool. That it was probably like how Superman saw auras and stuff... We tried to see if he could maybe do it too, and Bart. But--"

"But?"

"Neither of them had the patience to get that deep into a meditative state so it never really worked and then Secret showed up and they could see a ghost for real then without trying so we didn't bother after that."

"But you kept seeing them."

Tim shrugged again, his shoulders slumped back down in a way that looked tired. Defeated.

"Yeah, it's not so bad, though. It's just like... people standing on the street. Dozens of different faces every day. You hardly ever even think about it. It's just that..."

"What?"

"It's just that I never..." Tim's voice cracked then, breaking in a way that must have been painful. He paused, swallowing hard and obviously working to compose himself.

Dick leaned in again, this time wrapping an arm around Tim's shoulders and pulling him into a gentle side hug.

"You never what?" Dick asked softly, not wanting Tim to pull away but also needing to know...

"I never see the ones I want to see," Tim finished darkly and it was clear from his voice that he was holding back tears. His muscles were so tight under Dick's arms and he could feel the racking, uneven breaths that Tim was pulling into his lungs.

The ones he wants to see...

The ones...

He wants to see.

Kon.

Bart.

His mother.

His father.

Tim had been seeing ghosts for years. But never the ones he wanted to see...

"Oh Tim," Dick said softly, pulling Tim in even closer and pressing a soft kiss to Tim's temple. Tim finally melted into the hug, and pressed his face into the juncture between Dick's neck and shoulder. Dick could feel the dampness around Tim's eyes as he wrapped both arms around Tim's trembling shoulders in a tight hug.

"Sometimes I worry that they are there," Tim said brokenly. "I worry that they're there when I'm not looking. When I'm just trying to live my life and tune them out that's when they're there. Talking to me silently the way that Jason was that night. Calling out to me. Needing me. I'm terrified that--" Tim's voice broke again and he shook his head, pressing closer to Dick and bringing his arms up around Dick's waist.

Tim hugged Dick then, like he hadn't for years. He hugged him like he was afraid to let go. Like he was too scared to be left alone with all these thoughts and all these ghosts who only wore the faces of strangers and called out to him in voices he didn't recognize.

"I'm terrified that they're there when I'm just not looking. Waiting for me to open my eyes and just see them..." Tim said, his voice a broken trembling sob that he tried to hold back but couldn't.

Dick didn't know what to say to Tim then. He just held him tight and whispered reassuring nonsense in his ear. It took Tim nearly ten minutes to calm back down and when he finally did pull away from Dick his eyes were thick with unshed tears and his cheeks were damp and flushed.

"You need sleep," Dick finally said to him softly. Tim just nodded mutely and Dick lead him back into the apartment. Tim followed Dick obediently back to his bedroom. They curled up together in the tangled mess of sheets and blankets on Dick’s bed.

They hadn't slept together like this since the Quake, when the cold, damp city drove them to huddle together for warmth at night. Tim didn't feel anything like he had then. He was still long limbed and boney but he was much taller now than he had been. Even still, he fit as neatly and easily into Dick's arms as he ever had, both of their bodies remembering instinctively how to lay together like his.

Dick was on his back with Tim's cheek resting on his shoulder. Tim was sprawled on his stomach along Dick’s side, one arm wrapped tightly around Dick's waist and one leg tucked snugly between Dick's. Dick had an arm wrapped around Tim's shoulder, resting on the long expanse of his muscular back.

Tim fell asleep faster than Dick had expected. His previous exhaustion coupled with the strong, intense emotion he had just struggled through obviously wearing him out past the point where he could stay awake any longer. His deep, even breathing came as something of a relief to Dick after the ragged, uneven breaths Tim had been taking when he was awake. 

The bone deep tiredness that had lead to Dick falling asleep on the couch mid-movie had completely deserted him. Sleep eluded him, even as the steady rise and fall of Tim's chest brought him comfort.

He couldn't help but replay everything Tim had said to him over and over again in his head. He couldn't help but remember the hurt, the stricken look in Tim's eyes, as he described his pain at being able to see so many departed apparitions, but none of them being the ones he loved most. He couldn't help but remember the broken sound of Tim's voice as he worried that they were there, looking for him, but only when he wasn't looking for them. That they were there only when Tim was trying to move on and live his life.

Dick swallowed past a lump in his throat and shut his stinging eyes. As Tim slept, Dick’s mind raced. He felt his arm tighten instinctively around Tim, pulling him in even closer. Tim’s breath came out in a huff at that, but he didn’t stir awake. He stayed deeply asleep as he snuggled in closer to Dick, breathing warmly against the side of Dick’s neck. 

Dick couldn't help but wonder what would happen when he was gone himself...

Would Tim be able to see him?

Or would Dick be another one of those ghosts that Tim just never got to see?


End file.
